


The Vegetable Crusade

by kayliemalinza



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-10
Updated: 2008-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:10:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack thinks his employees should sleep more and eat their vegetables. Tosh and Ianto think he should be more proactive about that. Next, they'll be refusing to stay off his lawn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Vegetable Crusade

It was a dark and stormy night. The lightning flashed dramatically in the Plass, sending sharp white slaps through the tourist office windows. Ianto's face flickered light to dark and his shadow, monstrous, loomed against the back wall.

He straightened some brochures.

Jack leaned against the doorway (the secret one that swiveled out when someone pressed the shiny red button) and said piteously, "I'm afraid of thunder."

"You can't hear the thunder down in the Hub," Ianto said shortly.

Jack rested his head against the doorjamb, hopefully exposing the long line of his throat. It probably made his jawline jut out handsomely, as well. "Maybe some of the machinery down there _sounds_ like thunder, and that scares me."

"And maybe you're five years old," Ianto said. He circled the desk to tidy the display of keychains. They clacked gently in the draft and beneath his fingers, reflecting the storm-light in muted flashes.

"Even grown-ups need comfort and attention," Jack said, and canted his hip out just so.

Ianto raised an eyebrow and gave Jack a small smirk, one that said he knew exactly what Jack's hip was doing and why, and yes, he was fully qualified to take advantage. Just not tonight. "I'm going home, Jack," he said gently.

"Ok," Jack said, and sighed. He shoved his hands in his pockets and watched Ianto putter around. The air in the room was cool, breezy, almost fresh; Jack had left all the doors and airlocks open, hoping to vent some of the staleness and alien musk from the Hub. He wondered if tourists wandered in sometimes and wrinkled their nose, not knowing they were smelling the enzyme secretions of an Isopian chameleon, or an incandescent bloom from the hothouse.

Ianto knelt down to pull a stack of picture postcards from under the counter. Jack admired the way he threw his tie over his shoulder: a quick, stylish gesture, well practiced. "At least I know you'll be well rested tomorrow," Jack said ruefully. "I swear you've been running on power naps and coffee lately."

Ianto let out a humorous huff at that, but he seemed slightly too intent on the postcards, not meeting Jack's eye.

Jack pushed away from the doorway to lean his forearms on the counter, watching Ianto over the top of it. "You are going to sleep, right?" he said. "And I mean a full night's sleep, not a few hours in front of the late night movie channel."

Ianto rose up and nudged Jack out of the way to set out the postcards. "Of course," he said, too easily.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "And you're going to eat something with vegetables in it," he added.

Ianto slid the stack of postcards into direct right angles to the edge of the counter and asked, seriously, "Does popcorn count as a vegetable?"

"No," said Jack, and poked the postcards crooked.

Ianto gave Jack a quelling look (a look which, to be perfectly honest, didn't quell much of anything, not when the corner of his mouth was quirking up like that) and straightened the stack again. "What about carrot-shaped marzipan?"

"Yuck," said Jack.

Ianto stood back to survey the state of the shop—everything tidy, computer shut down, brochures and sundry stocked up—then leaned over the counter and hooked a finger under Jack's left brace, pulling him in. "Goodnight," he murmured, and pressed his lips against Jack's.

"Mmhmm," said Jack, and prolonged the kiss for a few moments more.

"Ianto, do you know—oh, sorry."

Jack and Ianto glanced up to see Tosh in the secret doorway, wavering in and out of sight behind the wall. She waved awkwardly.

"No problem," said Ianto stepping away from the counter and Jack. "Did you need something?"

"Just those files on the Dewitt incident," Tosh said, tucking a shock of hair behind her ear. It slipped right out again, glimmering with dim fluorescents from the corridor behind her. "Did you put them in the archives already?"

"Yep," said Ianto, heading past her.

"Tosh, you don't need to work on that tonight," Jack said. "I won't need that report until Friday at the earliest."

"Just wanted to get it out of the way," Tosh said apologetically, already half-turned to follow Ianto.

Ianto poked his head back into sight, just behind her. "Did you want help?" he asked. "I could run that cross-reference analysis you were talking about this morning."

"Oh, could you?" Tosh said, with the sudden smile that made Jack want to pick her up and spin her around sometimes. "That would be a huge help."

"Now hang on a minute," Jack said in his best commander voice. "Ianto, you were supposed to go home and eat some vegetables. Toshiko, it wouldn't be a bad idea for you to do that, too."

Ianto looked faintly embarrassed. Tosh sent him a questioning look. "Vegetables?" she asked.

There was a sudden thunder crack. "He's on a vegetable crusade tonight," Ianto shrugged in the follow-up glimmer and rumble. His tie twisted in a draft and Jack wondered if he'd left the invisible lift down. The air smelled of wet Cardiff all of a sudden, smelled like the street-puddle mix of rainwater, petrol and beer.

Jack crossed his arms. "Contrary to popular belief," he said, "'Chinese take-out' is not one of the major food groups. Vegetables provide important vitamins and minerals."

"I take a vitamin supplement," said Tosh.

"Me, too," said Ianto. He turned to Tosh. "Actually, I've been thinking of adding a protein powder to the coffee."

"That's a good idea," Tosh said admiringly.

"Look, you're missing the point," Jack said.

"Don't be so old-fashioned," Ianto shot back, and Toshiko snickered.

Jack glared at her.

"It's ironic," she said defensively, and pressed back against Ianto's chest for protection.

"Irony is one of those things the kids do," Ianto said quietly, bending down near her ear. "He doesn't get it."

Tosh snickered again.

"Is this the point where I call you two whippersnappers?" Jack asked dryly.

"Maybe you should put me over your knee," said Ianto, and winked.

Jack, frankly, didn't know how to respond to that without making Toshiko turn several shades of red. He swung round to a different angle of attack. "Why is it that I can't convince you to stay, but when Toshiko comes along you volunteer without being asked?" It was a perfectly logical question, and he didn't sound the slightest bit whiney. Also, he was dramatically backlit by the lightning and that probably helped.

Tosh and Ianto were grey muzzy things in the corridor, not dramatic at all. Ianto shrugged. "If you're serious about the vegetables," he said, "you could cook us dinner."

"That sounds lovely!" Tosh said. "We have spaceship engine that we rigged up as a stove, actually, we just don't use it much anymore." She looked up at Ianto. "Have you tasted Jack's cooking? He's very good."

Ianto smiled. "I've heard tales of the snap beans," he said, "but never experienced them for myself."

"Fine," said Jack, trying to stay bitter even though Tosh and Ianto were grinning at him, snuggled up in the doorway like a couple of fox kits. "Ianto, I'm taking your car to the grocery store."

"Deal," said Ianto, and tossed him the keys.

Jack pointed a finger. "Now, while I'm gone, you two get to work on that report because you're going home before midnight tonight whether you've finished or not. Is that understood?"

"Understood," said Tosh with a short nod.

"Understood," said Ianto, with a sly wink that Tosh couldn't see.

Jack shook his head as he grabbed his coat from the rack, listening to their laughter float softly from the corridor. "Damn kids," he muttered with a grin.


End file.
